Saturday, September 15, 2012

This week
is one I want to purge out of my mind and pretend it never happened (except for
what happened to me on Tuesday between 1 and 3 p.m., because it’s going to be
helpful).

I’m
frustrated because I don’t think I am getting better fast enough. I had a
doctor’s appointment on Monday (normal every 4 month liver functions for high
cholesterol medication) and when I stepped on the scale, I expected a decent
weight loss. I’ve not had much of an appetite since my kidney stone drama
started on June 17, and my clothing tell me I’ve lost weight, but the scale
said I’d lost only 10 pounds. There are some days I don’t eat at all because I
just am not hungry. So my body is in full famine mode, holding onto every ounce
it can.

My very
dear stepdad drove me to my appointment in Daly City, a 2-½ hour drive. He got
me there early, which is always good. Usually. Not that day.

When Jim picked me up at 8:15 a.m. he said there had already been a couple of
car wrecks along our route, including in the Bay Area. I didn’t think they’d
have any affect on what I was going to have done, but I was wrong! The car
accidents pretty much shut down the Peninsula, and the radiology/surgery center
noted that one of the doctors was late, as were all of the early appointments.
So they were behind an hour or so. My procedure time was supposed to be noon,
but I don’t think I got into a room until 1:30 p.m. By that time I am starving.

The
procedure went fine. Dr. Palma does as I ask—I want enough drugs to not
remember and to have little pain. To that end, they now have a full-blown
anesthesiologist or nurse anesthetist keeping patients on the table. All I
remember was feeling slightly dizzy with the Versed, then I watched as the
milky white Diprivan went into the tubing and into my vein. I remember thinking
“Why am I not out?” and then within seconds (so it seemed) I was awake and
being asked to scoot of the table and onto a gurney.

This
procedure involves sticking electrodes into my back and zapping nerves that run
through the facet joints. I asked Dr. Palma to really zap them and he did. This
time I had horrible pain in the recovery room, so horrible that it took 4 mg.
of Dilaudid and a Toridol injection to get me comfortable enough for the ride
home. In a month I’ll be in great shape for winter gardening/cleanup.

So I was not terribly clear in the head and it was the next day when I learned
about the going-ons of 9/11/12. Wednesday I scoured the Internet, using the
usual sources and of course some definite political ones, to learn about what
had happened. Couple that with a photo of a cat disappearing from my wall, and
I spent Wednesday crying.

The “cat disappearing from my wall” was a cat in an animal shelter in Baldwin
Park. I’d been sharing his photo and pleading—go get this kitty, share this
photo. One of the shelter volunteers said his time was almost up. He was a
ringer for my little Cammi cat.So I am
assuming the worst and am still so damned sad for the loss of that sweet soul,
Bond, who just wanted a home and love of his own. I still get weepy; I look at
Cammi and see him. Why can’t people just spay or neuter and be responsible for
the cats they are responsible for bringing into the world.

On
Wednesday the animal shelter posted a photo of brother and sister kittens who
are ringers for my Ryan—tuxrdo, mittens in front, little streaks of white on
their foreheads. Now I am worried for them. I promised my deceased kitty
Elliott that I’d take care of tuxedo cats like he was. I have only three…
that’s not saving very many.

Thursday the
pain was increasing rather than decreasing. The pharmacy finally had the right
medications, so it took a few hours to get the pain under control. I was still
looking for information about 9/11/12, asking myself “how could this happen?”
Isn’t 9/11 a high alert day for Americans anyway? Why should it be any
different for Americans in Islamic countries? If anything, every day should be
high alert there.

I learned that the assassinated ambassador was involved in the so-called Arab
Spring, that he loved his post and the people of Libya. I also learned he had
been sodomized before he died. Then I started tripping over stories about the
president and how he’d skipped security briefings—and yes, he’d skipped the
most recent one where 9/11/12 was discussed. I learned there was credible
information that something was up. Why weren’t embassy staffs at ALL Islamic
nations on high alert? Why weren’t there Marines crawling all over he
place—ARMED Marines who were ready, willing and able to take care of problems
should they arise!

Thursday
evening I was scrounging up something in the kitchen, and four-month-old tuxie
kitten Morgan was skittering at my feet. One of the dogs, the “best behaved”
one, Stoli, was in the house, too, across the room. At my feet (so at Morgan’s
feet, too) there was a rawhide chew toy neither of us noticed. Suddenly the dog
dashed across the room, teeth bared, going after the kitten and I for being
close to her chew thing. Had I not had the walker, she would have knocked me
down and no doubt harmed the kitten. I threw the walker at her to protect the
kitten and myself. The dogs are out of control, and I am pretty close to
admitting I am in over my head and rehoming both of mine. Four big dogs are too
much, and earlier in the week they broke into a neighbor’s yard, chewing up her
garden hoses and terrorized her all afternoon. All I’ll be left with are my
daughter’s two, and if she hasn’t collected them by Christmas, I’ll rehome or
PTS the black one (I cannot rehome her boyfriend’s dog).

So
Saturday finally arrived, and as I type this, six Americans have died as a
consequence of “unrest” in Islamic countries. Our secretary of state claims
those protests aren’t directed at Americans per se, but are a reaction to a
film produced on U.S. soil that is critical of their prophet. Please, Madame Secretary.
Stop the political correctness and see this for what it is: It was 9/11,
Islam’s new traditioinal spit on Americans day.

This
afternoon, one of the Facebook groups posted a photo of Black Muslims holding a
cross with a “crucified” cat on it. I could not believe what I was seeing,
shared it with an anti-Muslim extremist group, and reported the image to
Facebook, who refuses to remove the image. It is horrific, and I cried for a
good 15 minutes after seeing it. I imagine the poor cat is dead, its paws
attached to the horizontal bar of the cross, its abdomen tied to the vertical
bar. I have never felt such hate for humans or a group of humans as I did
looking at that photo.

This
country has had a dearth of leadership for most of my life. Presidents are
worried about being politically correct and afraid to offend any one group,
even if it is for the good of the majority of Americans. Most of my life I
worried we were going to be overrun by Mexicans. That’s no longer the case. We
are being overrun by Muslims, who take over a city, install Muslims into
city/county government, and then work to establish Sharia law. We have a
president who has published the words “I will stand with the Muslims should the political winds shift in an ugly direction.” We should all be very afraid. I believe he is doing just that.

If that
poor crucified cat is something acceptable to Islam (or anyone), they deserve to be wiped
off the earth. I cannot believe the cruelty, the disregard for life. I know
that there are so-called Christians just as evil, and I think they are no
better than Islamic extremists. But for now it is plain that our enemies are
Islamic nations who have zero respect for the U.S. because we have spineless
leaders (starting all the way back to Johnson) who get and keep us in wars
where there can be no winner, where the goal was impossible (in this decade, “establishing
democracy” in nations where Sharia law is what they want is as far from a
democracy as one can get). I do not want any Americans fighting a ground war in
this region. Bring our troops home, blow up a few mosques for good measure,
pull all foreign aid to Islamic-identifying nations, and protect our own
continent. Secure the southern border (I read an article that mentioned that
prayer rugs are among the litter left by border hoppers—since when did
overwhelmingly Catholic Mexicans start using prayer rugs?), deport students
from the Middle East who have overstayed their visas (What what the heck,
deport those from any country who have overstayed a student visa) and keep our
own nation secure.

I hope
our government learns something from the goings-on this week. I hope I soon
forget the mental and physical pain and find myself digging in the dirt,
getting my roses ready for winter, and being able to somehow learn that I
cannot save every animal.

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Cathy & Shorty

About Me

I am a middle-aged moderate Republican who is concerned about the direction this country is taking. I'm mostly socially liberal but I am very fiscally conservative and I think too many people in this country are waiting for handouts and not seeking solutions.